23 bodies
by SkyeElf
Summary: Based on a popular fan theory of the 74th Hunger Games. Foxface is probably the smartest person in the entire arena, so why did she eat Nightlock when I am convinced she knew what it was? SkyeElf Challenge with Bramblerose4 and others.


**A/N: This is based on the fan theory that Foxface committed suicide, and part of the SkyeElf Challenge with several other authors. I don't own Hunger Games.**

**23 bodies**

She spotted him moving through the tall grass, quite loudly, but she still followed him. He wasn't the brightest spark in the arena, but she liked his personality most, so she stuck with him.

She was smart. Scratch that, she was probably the most intelligent being in the entire arena, but did she get that recognition? That girl from 11 probably knew how smart she was. She could outlive all of the others, but she wasn't that selfless. 23 bodies were a lot.

In training, she studied the plants for a reason, and that reason was to survive, but with the sudden rule change of two victors from one district winning – she was done for. Either one or 12 would win, because _literal_ power in masses is better than a lone intelligent being. She wasn't good at setting traps or fighting, nor was she very athletic to run fast. She was stealthy, though. She also knew the moment there were just two left, the rule would be cancelled and the two left would be turned on one another – bringing the sum of the dead back to 23.

She basically knew what to eat and what not to eat to keep her alive, she was intelligent enough for that, she could figure out puzzles easily, like the trap at the careers' camp, she knew how to cover her tracks and to hide. She was also so quiet that she had following the two tributes of district 12 hadn't even noticed her after two whole days. And the girl was supposed to be a _hunter!_

Her eyes sparkled to life when he bent down. She leaned closer a centimetre. He was picking something from a bush. She couldn't see what, but didn't dare move any closer in fear of the pair discovering her. She was fairly certain the girl would just put an arrow through her eye before she could even blink, and she wanted her death to be _clean_, thank you very much.

She liked him, he was probably the only sincere person in the 74th Hunger Games, and she would like it if he won. He liked a girl who obviously never recognised him as more than just a baker's boy, but she, the quiet redhead, saw through him. He wasn't the smartest or the quietest, but he _was_ the one that was the least selfish, the one that would offer the world and his life for a girl who seemingly tossed him aside until these very games. He was also very strong internally and externally, though she'd lost count of how many times he'd needed the girl to save his butt.

Of course it was all an act, but as if the idiots in the Capitol would know, she thought sarcastically. They wouldn't even be able to guess it correctly, because he was so well at acting and the girl really wanted to win to get home.

In retrospect, the girl from 12 wasn't entirely selfish. She had seen that twelve had volunteered for her sister, who she was clearly taking care of, because their mother hadn't looked all there until the reaping. The boy was even less selfish, because he was prepared to give his life for her.

A terrified scream filled the air – the girl from twelve. The redhead smiled to herself, the girl really did care for her boy, didn't she?

There was still a tiny chance of her own survival, she could just run to a tree, climb it and wait for the others to kill each other and she would be the winner, but she wasn't that selfish nor was she that selfless. She didn't want 23 lives on her conscience, and she had a feeling the loving pair from twelve could handle it. Everdeen could handle it; she was stronger than she thought.

The boy from twelve – Peter? – ran to the voice, leaving some of what he had picked on the ground in a small heap.

The redhead drew closer, seeing the dark berries and immediately recognising them as Nightlock. If she ate those, she would be dead within a minute.

It was a split-second decision; she picked up the berries, her hands already staining from the juice, and considered it for the tiniest space of a second. She could get away clean. She could die in the less brutal way she could think of – eating poisoned berries. No arrow in her skull, no broken neck, and no brutal brick to the head until her brains spilled out onto the beautiful green grass that surrounded them.

She was a coward. She didn't want 23 bodies on her conscience; she didn't want to live in wealth with all that she desired, and then being forced to return the next year to coach others to do the same. She wasn't that selfless.

But she also wasn't that selfish, because these two, the tributes from twelve, especially the girl, could turn this entire country of Dystopia around. If anyone would inspire the masses, it would be her, she just needed to play her role and be one good actress. She needed to be a caring sister and a courageous fighter at the same time.

But the girl with fiery hair knew twelve could pull it off. They could handle 23 bodies on their consciences, and even if the rule of two surviving was revoked, the girl would still win. She knew that, because Katniss Everdeen wasn't a fighter by nature, but she did love, and she did so with every fibre of her being, she loved more than she knew she did, that she resolved to fight for what she loved with the fury of a thousand suns. The redhead honestly pitied Panem.

That was why the berries were in her mouth, but she didn't do it smoothly, as if she knew she was killing herself, she did it like a starved person would jam everything they could into their mouths, afraid that if they didn't eat fast enough, they wouldn't get more, and swallowing it greedily.

23 bodies wouldn't be on her conscience. 23 bodies would be in coffins on their way home. 23 bodies would again die… 23 bodies would… 23 bodies were… dead.

. . .

**A/N: Please do review.**


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